The Legend of Mr Jones

Hey kid, dangling on the concrete wallSpitting on the ground, waiting for the night to fall.What’s your name? Tell me, what’s your game?"Why you asking, old man? Everyone here is the same."It’s about respect, it’s about a clean traceYou should use a tissue, not pollute this empty space."Oh, old man, you talk strange, I don't understand your speechAre you a foreigner trying to come here and teach?"Do you speak English? Do you know who I am?Put a brake on that tongue, I don't give a damn.Don't call me old man, my name is Mr. Jones."Well, Mr. Jones, I eat people like you to the bones!"Mr. Jones looks at the radio, big and loud on the streetTell me, young zombie, can you dance to a beat?"Old man, I’m an ace, I’m the king of the floorWhat about you? Can you move anymore?"The crowd is coming closer, forming a circle aroundThe boy starts to laugh, turning up the heavy sound.He does two cheap spins, a few steps in the dustLooking like he climbed a mountain of pride and lust."Now it’s your turn, old man, show me your best!"But Mr. Jones looks back, calm and unimpressed.A fifteen-second trick is not a real show, my friendLet me show you where the sky and the legends blend.He puts a flash drive in the USB slot of the deckAnd a grand classical symphony snaps the kid’s neck.The violins explode, the heavy rock guitars igniteMr. Jones begins to fly right into the night!He is dancing on the clouds, defying the rules of gravityAn ancient swan escaping from a modern tragedy.The greatest dancer of the Bolshoi theater is back on the sceneA majestic white wings breaking through the cold machine.The young zombie stands frozen, his radio is on fireStaring at a legend lifting higher and higher.The street is a stage, the concrete turns into goldThis is the story of a fire that never grows old.You cannot buy this class, you cannot sell this graceThe unchained raptor just took over the place.Nature always wins.And the swan is still alive!